


Vägen hem

by Naiade



Category: Midsommar (2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:29:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21845965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naiade/pseuds/Naiade
Summary: Yuletide 2019 gift for Oxfordroulette. Dani adjusts, immediately after the ceremony.
Relationships: Dani Ardor/Pelle (Midsommar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 138
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Vägen hem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oxfordRoulette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxfordRoulette/gifts).



She cries and laughs and screams with the rest of them till her throat is sore.

It’s an exhilarating, surreal, maddening feeling. The heat and the deafening roar of the pyre, the sight of it, the rippling air. The people wailing, laughing, the air is emotion become sound.   
She’s free, more free and light she’s been in years. 

But later, when the women are helping her out of the heavy mantle of flowers, the realization starts creeping at her, nipping at her from around the edges of the drug-induced haze.

Christian is dead. 

Once, she’d thought they’d might get married.   
She sent him to his death, with just a look. Till death do us apart.

And what about the others? Josh, Mark?   
They ran away with the book. Right?

But of course they didn’t, she knows it. She heard it herself - four new bloods, four of our own.   
Four new bloods means Josh, Mark, Christian - and her? 

Her feet tremble as she tells them that she has to be alone, has to think.   
They’re hesitant to let her go.   
Come, cry with us, feel it together, they say, smiling, all open embraces. It’s almost tempting. Dani pushes her wild, unruly panic behind the surface and says she needs to say goodbye alone, she’ll be fine, and then she’s walking determinedly away, firmly clamping down on her simmering terror, get to somewhere in the woods, anywhere where she can have a moment alone to fall apart. 

She stumbles around in her linen undergown and slippers, and reaches the edge of a small lake before finally collapsing and breathing heavily for a bit. She’s been screaming so much she feels hoarse and empty, worn thin, the world is still spinning; and she lies back on the grass and looks at the ever-light sky. 

What is this trip? What happened to them? 

Christian is dead. 

He was such an asshole. He was so wonderful, sometimes, though less and less, recently. She needed him so much. She loved him, she thinks. At some point, at least. 

Dani remembers the last look between them, the heartbreak and the humiliation and the feeling of being so fed up with him and his manipulative passive-aggressive cheating bullshit.   
But he wasn’t all bad. She loved him, once.   
Dani remembers how handsome he could be, how he seemed to be the one thing keeping her functioning and moving, and now he’s dead, he burned up and he’s never coming back. 

Because she chose him to die.

And where are the others?   
Four new bloods. Josh and Mark are dead, they have to be. They were burned as well, and Dani, the last of the newbloods, knows of their fate. It dawns on her that she’s in huge danger. What about Connie and Simon, did they make it out?

There’s a rustle behind her, and she tries to hastily get up. The world tilts, but there’s a pair of strong arms to catch her.   
It’s Pelle. 

”I came to see how you’re doing,” he smiles. He’s always smiling, but now his expression is wistful. His eyes look a little puffy, she notices, like he’s been crying. ”It’s a lot to take in.”

She stares up at him, this man who feels so familiar and a complete stranger at the same time, and he looks steadily back, waiting for her to find her voice.

”They’re dead,” Dani finally manages. ”You killed them.” His expression shifts and he opens his mouth, but Dani is faster. ”You brought us all here to die.” Her voice cracks at the end. 

”Not all,” Pelle says. ”Not you, Dani.” He takes her by the shoulders, gently, soothingly. ”I let you be brought, because I felt like you might find a home here, among the Hårga. Like I did, after my parents died.” His fingers are softly massaging her flesh, his head bent down as if he might kiss her again, his friendly, handsome face framed by the green chaplet, like a crown.

”You knew they were going to be killed, didn’t you,” Dani croaks. He purses his lips. ”Why? How could you do this, you- you said you liked them, liked us, and yet- we were supposed to be friends,” she says, her volume rising.

”They were my friends, yes,” he cuts her short. ”And Ingemar was my brother, who I loved. Ulf was like a father to me, or an uncle. I’ll miss them all. All of them.” His tone is low and intense, and his expression twists with genuine grief. ”They were very dear to me, and now they’re gone. Don’t you see, Dani? Letting go of the things you love when it’s time, and grieving that loss, is a part of the sacred cycle of life. It hurts, and I’ll mourn my brother, father and friends, but it’s also as it should be. Letting go, because things move on, something ends and another thing begins, and it’s beyond mere humans to stop it.” He sighs, gathering his words. 

”Grieving is a part of the celebration. A part of life. I brought them here, because I really thought that of all the people I met outside they would appreciate what we’re doing here the most.” He lifts his right hand from her shoulder and touches her face. ”And I think you were brought here, because it’s where you belong.”

Dani twitches back from his words, but his hand finds her face. 

”Christian brought you here, because he couldn’t let go, couldn’t move on from the relationship you had. And in the end it was you who chose to let go of him.” He licks his lips, his thumb caressing circles on her cheek.   
”You liked Christian, and maybe you needed him - needed more than he could give you, but even that little was better than nothing. But you still chose him instead of Torbjörn, because you found us, and you knew you’d found a home, and you were ready to let go.”

He presses his forehead to hers murmuring softly as their floral crowns rustle together. 

”It was meant to happen, Dani. You were meant to find your way here, to us. To me. You’re not here to be killed, I swear. You’re our May Queen.”

The world is hazy and tilted and there’s something wrong with his logic, the desire to argue is lazily slipping around at the back of her mind, but she can’t catch it, and it feels so, so good to just stay there, breathing with Pelle, being held by him. Letting the burning guilt of Christian’s death sink farther.

Somewhere in the woods, there’s birds chirping, and the light shifts to a strange, ethereal dimness. 

She wakes up still outside, in Pelle’s arms. The fleeting desire to escape surges up, but Pelle kisses her with a newfound intensity, takes her strongly by the hand, and leads her back to the Hårga, and she wouldn’t even know where to run. What would she tell the authorities? 

And what would she be returning to, anyway? A crippling void of despair and aimless loneliness. She has no-one left in the world. 

Except the Hårga. And Pelle, whose grip of her is strong and warm. 

When they return, everyone is so happy. It’s easy to not think, to drink the new infusions she’s given, to let herself be dressed in new clothes and a new floral crown. She’s the May Queen, they tell her. Our beloved Queen, who has responsibilities.

The whole thing is so enormous, it’s just too much, she’s worn out and so raw, she doesn’t have the strength. 

She’ll deal with it later.


End file.
